When Beatrix ‘Trix’ Daley loses her twin brother Bo in a tragic accident, she inadvertently gains his best friend, Penn, whether she wants him or not. Penn is the exact opposite of her brother. Obnoxious. Cocky. And out to sleep with as many women as possible. But he knows. He gets it. Because he lost Bo, too.

Penn’s been going out of his way to piss off Trix since he was six. Twenty years later, and getting under her skin is still his favorite pastime. And Bo’s still the only thing that keeps them tied together. Even if he has been dead for eight years.

For better or worse, Trix and Penn have been the constant in each other’s lives, and the line between love and hate continues to blur at a steady rate…but Trix is the last girl on earth a guy like Penn should fall for. So there’s no telling which side of love and hate they’ll wind up on when all is said and done. And whether they’ll wind up there, still together...or not.

Trix smells like Lucky Charms and her cherry pomegranate soap. I hate when she stands this close to me. She always makes me hungry. And not for cereal.

“You wanna talk about where you were when I walked in here?” I know where she was. Getting sucked in by the darkness. I’ve seen it happen often enough over the years to recognize the signs, I just can’t figure out how to stop her from going.

“Just thinking about starting my new job tomorrow.”

Liar.

But I’ll go along with it. For now. “Private practice this time, right?”

She nods, and her eyes shoot straight up again until they’re laser locked to my forehead and the work she’s doing there. “Yeah. Dr. Patterson. He’s a plastic surgeon who specializes in reparative surgeries. Does tons of pro-bono work helping families whose babies were born with birth defects.”

That explains her interest in working for him. Trix doesn’t do anything unless it’s for some cause or another.

I notice her gaze drop automatically expecting my response. It’s funny how it happens even when she’s so clearly fighting it.

“Sounds like your kind of doctor.”

I can feel her pressing down the small strips of tape over my brow. Then she steps back, examining her work. “Hope so. I interviewed with his office manager, so I haven’t actually met him yet. Kind of nervous, actually. What if he doesn’t like me? I really need this job.”

I rest my hands on her hips, twisting them back and forth playfully in hopes it will get her to smile.

“Come on, Trix. Not like you? How would that even be possible?”

She arches her brow skeptically. “You don’t like me.”

“Yeah, but that’s different.”

Her eyes widen and she throws her hands up at me. “How exactly is that different?”

“Because.” Still, I grasp her hips again and move her toward me, staring straight up into her teal eyes which are currently trying to ice me to death. “I love you, so liking you isn’t necessary.”

“Yeah well, I’m not sure what you feel for me is love. It’s more like hate that got so old and moldy it became unrecognizable to the point it could be easily confused for love.”

I smirk.

“You sound like you’ve put some thought into this. Are you saying that what you feel for me is nothing but old and moldy hate?”

She presses down on my shoulders to push herself away from me and out of the hold I keep placing on her. “Yeah. Pretty much.” Then she busies herself cleaning up the bloody gauze and leftover supplies from fixing up my face. She pauses briefly, a look on her face like she’s just thought of something. “Do me a favor and don’t pick at that. I’ll check it when I get home tomorrow and change it out if I have to. It should be fine though. Couple of days and it’ll be well on its way to healing.”

“Thanks.” But I don’t move. I just sit here and continue to watch her clean up. She’s back in her head, unraveling. And I can’t stop it.

Penn: Um, probably some water bottles, a half empty jug of OJ and a box of Pizza from Julian's. We don't tend to do a lot of grocery shopping at the house.

Trix, you're up. Since it's pretty apparent the two of you have a rather close, albeit rocky, relationship, what would you say is your biggest pet peeve when it comes to living with Penn?

Trix: You mean other than him leaving the toilet seat up? I don't know. There's the way he drinks and eats everything straight out of the containers. Or, the way he insists on walking around naked...yeah, I know, like what's my problem, right?! Well, you try talking to him about day to day stuff while his junk is hanging out. It's not all that easy.

No, I imagine it wouldn't be. Although, I'm not sure I'd be complaining about it. Anyway, moving right along. What would you say is your greatest accomplishment to date?

Trix: I don't know that I would call it an accomplishment, but what I'm most proud of is the work I've been able to do through Doctors Without Borders. It just means so much to me to be able to go out and do what I was trained to do in places where help is so lacking and so desperately needed.

That's really admirable, Trix.

Trix: Thank you.

Wow, that was some serious stuff, let's lighten things up a bit. What would you say is your all time favorite movie.

Trix: Practical Magic. I could watch that movie over and over again.

Penn: No shit.

Trix: You love that movie and you know it.

Penn:I do NOT love that movie and YOU know it.

Trix: Then why do you have it memorized?

Penn: Oh, I don't know. Maybe because you've made me watch it a hundred million times.

Trix: Be serious, Penn. I can't make you do anything you don't secretly want to.

Well, I get the feeling you two are getting derailed here again, so I'm going to close the interview with my last question for Trix. What is on your nightstand at this very moment?

Trix: On my nightstand? That would be my lamp and a framed picture of my brother,Bo, Penn and myself, taken when we were kids shortly after we started school together.

Where it all began.

Penn: You have no idea...

Dog Lover who likes her pastries full of cream and sugar….oh…and I write some ;-)

Aside from being an author, I am also a mom to a beautiful 5 year old little girl. I tell everyone I named her after my great-grandmother (because that’s the mature answer), but really, I named her after my favorite princess – just so happens I got lucky and they had the same name…If I wasn’t a writer, I would work on a horse ranch – I’m an animal lover (in addition to dogs, horses are at the top of my list). I wear flip-flops pretty much everywhere I go. I would rather stay awake until 5 am than get up at 5 am (years of bar tending have left their mark), if I can, I’m going to the beach AND I will always be nice to people who bring me chocolate…or coffee…if you bring me both, I’ll probably love you forever.A gypsy at heart, I write the way I live, following the story wherever it may lead, always ready to start the next one. This is clearly reflected in my body of work which to date includes everything from Children’s Lit to Thrillers.

Fame, fortune and a future paved with rock 'n roll gold - Blaise Nolan has it all. With his brooding good looks, haunting voice and troubled lyrics of a soul gone lost, it's no wonder his band Finding Nolan has been climbing the music charts with back to back hits. Only Blaise didn't wind up brooding, haunted and lost by accident...

Avalon Jennison has been the girl next door since she was five. The best friend since she was eight. The band manager since she was sixteen, and the keeper of his secrets always. Ava's been there every step of the way, helping Blaise live his dreams while keeping his nightmares at bay. But the years of putting Blaise's needs above her own are about to be over.

Except, Blaise has one secret even Ava doesn't know...and it could be the thing that breaks her heart completely, or finally puts it back together.

*All Finding Nolan Novels are stand alone stories. However, due to recurring characters and the way each story builds on the one before it, they are best read in order.*

Royce and I just stood there staring at the closed door. Then we heard the water go on in the shower and realized she wasn’t coming back out anytime soon.

“What are you going to do when you’re sober?” Royce was looking way too satisfied with himself.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, what are you going to do when there’s no more reason to play pretend? Are you hoping she just gets so used to acting like your girlfriend that she’ll forget that she’s not?”

He wasn’t blocking the fucking door anymore, so I was free to make my exit. Which I did.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t.” Royce was following me out of the room and back into the kitchen.

“Look. I don’t expect you to understand my relationship with Ava.”

Royce shrugged. “What’s to understand? You’re in love with her.”

“This is what I’m talking about. Why do people always assume that when a guy and a girl are close friends, it means that one of them has to be in love with the other?”

Royce went to get the cup of coffee he had abandoned before shit got heated. “I don’t assume that.” He took a sip, made a face and stuck the coffee in the microwave. “I would have no problem believing that the two of you were best friends who had a completely platonic relationship…if I didn’t know for a fact that it was complete and utter bullshit.” His coffee was done and he took another drink, this time with better results. “If it makes you feel any better, she’s clearly in love with you, too. Although, unlike you, I don’t think she’s aware of it.” Then he took his cup and left to go out onto the terrace.

Unlike me? Where was he coming up with this…this ridiculous…truth. It was true. I was in love with Ava. And she felt the same way about me. Thing Royce in all his smugness had failed to see was that I’d made damn sure she stayed unaware of it.

Royce Lemmi went from being the bullied little freak in high school to rock and roll demigod in the blink of an eye. While playing to packed stadiums filled with screaming fans night after night is a daily reminder of how far he’s come, most days Royce can’t help but see that tortured soul from before, anytime he looks in the mirror.

Kieran Hudson has never spent a day of his life questioning who he was or what he wanted. He spends his days tending to his mother’s store, but his nights are dedicated to exploring the world through the lens of his camera and exposing beauty in the most unexpected places.

When Royce and Kieran’s paths cross in a twist of paparazzi fate, they both react true to form. Royce runs to hide the weakness he fears, behind the success he now depends on, while Kieran never wavers on what he wants or who he wants to be with. And he’s going to do what he does best to convince Royce he’s right.

All Kieran has to do…is expose the beauty in the place Royce least expects to find it. Himself.

I stared down at my legs, fully dressed in jeans, socks and shoes, then back over at the TV screen. I’d been awake, showered, clothed, and watching a Gilligan’s Island marathon since five a.m. What I needed, was to get out of this fucking hotel room.

“I’m sure I’ll think of something once we’re there.” I pointed the remote straight at the captain’s head and pulled the trigger. Thank God that was finally over.

She made a face at me. “You’re going to come?”

“I’m sorry. Is that a problem?” Not twelve hours ago she’d asked me to follow her into the bathroom to keep her company while she showered. Now seemed like an odd time to suddenly require some privacy.

Ava reached for the baseball cap hanging on the doorknob and strapped it over my head. “Not any more.” She pointed at the nightstand behind me. “Hey, grab those shades too, would ya? I really don’t feel like getting attacked by the paparazzi pre-shower and wearing my sweats.”

“You showered. I know. I was there, remember?” I slid on the shades anyway. I wasn’t in the mood for a morning mob either. I was no Blaise Nolan, but in lieu of Finding Nolan’s front man, people seemed to be happy to settle for the lowly bass player in a heartbeat.

“Um, that shower was ages ago. Do you know how much I’ve sweat in the meantime?” She led the way out the door, in spite of her apparent nastiness.

“Gross. I know we’re close Ava, but I do not need to hear about your sweaty sex with Blaise.” I reached for my wallet and room key on the way out.

“Ew! I went for a run this morning, you jackass! For the record, I don’t have unattractive, sweaty sex. I do it all nice and pretty like…you know, the way they do it in the movies. All sensual and magical.”

I nodded, even though she had her back to me. “Yeah, I hear that all the time about hetero sex. How magical it is.” Ava turned her head briefly and acknowledged the sarcasm with a dramatic eye roll and her standard half-smirk, but didn’t bother to respond. We’d had the hetero sex talk plenty of times before in the past. She knew where I stood with it. Preferably at a safe distance where I could pretend it didn’t exist.

Vaginas didn’t scare me exactly. I mean, they seemed innocent enough, and I could see the convenience of it all, one piece fitting into the other. But I’d taken sex ed. I’d seen that sweet little flower chicks claimed they were sitting on morph into monsters big enough to spit out a watermelon on a moment’s notice. Don’t tell me there isn’t something shady about that.

If straight dudes want to stick their dicks in there, I say do so at your own risk. Someday that beast may decide to swallow instead of spit, and then what the fuck are you going to do? Be fucking dickless, that’s what.

We were in the elevator going down to the lobby when I noticed Ava was still grinning.

“What?”

She chuckled before she answered, “You look nervous. Thinking about penis-eating vaginas again?”

“The thing drools blood, Ava! It’s clearly carnivorous.”

The mocking grin fell from her face. “Okay, now you’re just being disgusting. And you know I can’t keep up in below the belt verbal combat before I’ve had my coffee, so that was an entirely unfair attack.”

I jerked my brow in feigned shock. “What attack? It was merely an act of self-defense. You started it. And it will count. And we’re calling it a truce.”

Content Warning - Adult Language (I think we can pretty much count on this with everything I write, lol)

Angel Hollis has mastered two things in his life. Music and Women. And with the other men of Finding Nolan moving on to more long-term relationships, Angel's not complaining about picking up the slack and keeping the groupies happy and satisfied.

Addison Jennison has been in love with Angel since she was eleven. Long before the fans were screaming his name and lining up to sleep with him, she was there. Only he never noticed. And why would he? She was just a kid.

Then.

Now, at twenty-one, she's finally old enough to catch his eye...provided he allows himself to look. Addison isn't just anyone. She's Ava's little sister. And Ava's family. There are rules. Lines that can't be crossed. Hearts not to be tampered with.

Angel's determined not to screw up and hurt the people he loves most, but no one is prepared when he comes face to face with his undoing and...he falls.

“So, when will this inappropriate touching take place?” She looks up and catches my gaze again. “I’m assuming I’m the one you’ll be touching inappropriately, right?”

Well, she’s definitely not sweet and innocent anymore. “Uh,” I clear my throat repeatedly. What is happening to me? How in the hell is she doing this? She’s Bam Bam, for fuck’s sake. Ava’s goofy little sister with the sweet smile and sad eyes. Only that’s not who I see when I look at her now. “Did you want to be touched inappropriately?”

She shrugs. “Do you?”

I cough. I feel like a jackass. It’s not cool. I’m supposed to be calm about this shit. Not act like a fucking pansy ass who can barely put together a sentence just because she smiles at me. I’m not fucking Royce.

“Shit.” I drop my fork in my empty box.

“What?” She’s frowning, no sign of that sexy as hell smirk left to be found. Which should make this easier. But it doesn’t. Because I remember. I remember the last time I saw a person acting the way I’m acting right now. And if what happened to him, is happening to me…shit just got real.

“Um, I just remembered. The band. The one I wanted to take you to go see. They start playing in less than half an hour. This time of day, with traffic, I don’t think we’ll make it in time.” I slide down from the trunk of my car, purposely keeping my face turned away from her. I have an odd sense she could see straight through me right now if our eyes met.

“Huh.” I hear a soft thud behind me as her feet hit the ground as well. Then I feel her arm wrap around my stomach, her body pressing against my back. “I don’t really feel like sitting in traffic right now,” she says quietly, her head resting right below my shoulder.

The sensation of suffocating starts to settle in my chest again. I don’t get why it keeps happening. And I don’t like it. If my body continues to equate her touch with oxygen one of us is bound to get hurt…or worse.

“If we don’t get in the car right now and get back on the road,” I pause, straining to fill my lungs with air, “we’re not going to make the show on time.”

“Angel?” Her body slinks around me until we’re standing face to face. “Are you really thinking about a bunch of British guys and their instruments right now?”

“I don’t think I can call you Bam Bam anymore,” I mutter, thinking how there’s no chance in hell this smartass, sexy woman will ever again conjure up the same innocent brotherly thoughts that little girl did once upon a time.

Her usual smirk breaks into a smile. “There’s always Addy.”

I shake my head. “No good. Everyone calls you that.”

“What do you want to call me?”

Mine. But I don’t say that out loud. “Something no one else does. Something just for me.”

“Easy. Call me Addison. You can be the first person to ever talk to me like I’m an adult.”

“I like that. Addison.” Then I’m breathing her in. Inhaling her with a kiss so intense I’m losing track of where I end and she begins. Her hands. My hands. Her body. My body. They move together in a way I’ve never felt before with any other woman. It’s like I finally get why people compare themselves to pieces of a puzzle. Because sometimes you find yourself with someone who just…fits.

Dog Lover who likes her pastries full of cream and sugar….oh…and I write some ;-)

Aside from being an author, I am also a mom to a beautiful 5 year old little girl. I tell everyone I named her after my great-grandmother (because that’s the mature answer), but really, I named her after my favorite princess – just so happens I got lucky and they had the same name…If I wasn’t a writer, I would work on a horse ranch – I’m an animal lover (in addition to dogs, horses are at the top of my list). I wear flip-flops pretty much everywhere I go. I would rather stay awake until 5 am than get up at 5 am (years of bar tending have left their mark), if I can, I’m going to the beach AND I will always be nice to people who bring me chocolate…or coffee…if you bring me both, I’ll probably love you forever.A gypsy at heart, I write the way I live, following the story wherever it may lead, always ready to start the next one. This is clearly reflected in my body of work which to date includes everything from Children’s Lit to Thrillers.

*****UNTIL IT'S NOT is a Short Story intended to compliment the novel WITH WHOM WE SPEND OUR LIVES***** It's been five years since I've seen him. Five years of growing up and growing apart. But every second we've spent separated by time and distance will disappear the second I see him. The second I feel his touch. He's mine. I'm his. And nothing and no one will ever be able to change that. I may be young. And I may not know much of anything...but I know him, and therefore I know at least one thing for sure: Love is EVERYTHING in this life.

Breathless, from nerves and the way my heart is expanding in my chest and crushing my lungs, I come to a stop within a few feet of where he stands. He’s so focused on scanning the sandy seaweed at his feet for turtle shells, he hasn’t even noticed me yet.

I swallow several times, trying to will my vocal chords back into existence. Finally, I find them.

“Hey.” Not as poignant a first statement as I’d hoped to make, but it’s enough.

Before he even moves his head to look at me, I know that he’s recognized the sound of my voice.

“Pickle.” No trace of a question in his tone. Just that same ridiculous nickname he stuck me with when I was fourteen and hated the idea of being called ‘babe’ or ‘baby’, or anything even remotely generic. So, I got Pickle. A name I hated even more. Until I loved it because he loved me, and hearing him call me Pickle was like hearing the words ‘I love you’ every time.

For a long moment, we just stand there, staring back and forth, our eyes locked onto each other’s souls and seeing everything we already know is there, but had to go without all this time we spent apart.

Then, without uttering a single word, we both come together in one fluid motion, his arms wrapping around my waist, pressing my body to his while my hands reach up and run through his thick, dark hair. It’s still soft and curls at the ends. He needs a haircut. He always needs a haircut.

My eyes flutter shut just as his lips sink into mine and finally, I’m home.

Dog Lover who likes her pastries full of cream and sugar….oh…and I write some ;-)

Aside from being an author, I am also a mom to a beautiful 5 year old little girl. I tell everyone I named her after my great-grandmother (because that’s the mature answer), but really, I named her after my favorite princess – just so happens I got lucky and they had the same name…If I wasn’t a writer, I would work on a horse ranch – I’m an animal lover (in addition to dogs, horses are at the top of my list). I wear flip-flops pretty much everywhere I go. I would rather stay awake until 5 am than get up at 5 am (years of bar tending have left their mark), if I can, I’m going to the beach AND I will always be nice to people who bring me chocolate…or coffee…if you bring me both, I’ll probably love you forever.A gypsy at heart, I write the way I live, following the story wherever it may lead, always ready to start the next one. This is clearly reflected in my body of work which to date includes everything from Children’s Lit to Thrillers.